


The Snowy Day of the year

by secretwriter07



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-23
Updated: 2013-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-05 19:41:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1097848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secretwriter07/pseuds/secretwriter07
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Sam have a surprise for them, and decide to enjoy it while they can.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Snowy Day of the year

_BAM!_

“Damn it, Sammy! That one hurt!” Dean cried, rubbing his face with his gloved hand, where the snow ball had hit.

“Who’s being the baby now?” Sam called from his spot from the bushes.

 

“I am not being a baby!” Dean argued, insulted.

He wasn’t sure what had come over him or Sam, but waking up in a warm, two story-home with a picket fence, and their parents in the kitchen, seemed to bring the child out in them. They had already built a snow man, and snow chick, with boobs, made half a dozen snow angels, and gone sledding on the hill behind the house. They were like kids on a day off of school. Well, what he assumed kids did on snow days. They never really gotten to do half that stuff.

Oh, of course, they weren’t stupid. They had figured out the moment, they stepped out the door, the snow globe they had gotten the night before. Dean knew he should have been worried about being locked up. He knew he should be trying to demand ways to get out of it. It was a cursed object, and nothing ever good came from it. But there was always tomorrow. He just wanted one day for him, for Sam, to enjoy some sense of normalcy they could have had as kids. Just so he could have a smile on Sam’s face, and know the weight of the world wasn’t on their shoulders for the day.

He could hear the laughter from his brother echoing through the wide open yard, and felt like glaring, but couldn’t muster up the anger. He grabbed a large wad of snow, padding it together, smoothing out any edges to make a perfect snow ball. Then he waited.

He didn’t have to wait long. Sam was too big to stay cramped up behind one of the rocks. The moment he saw Sam’s head pop out, slammed the snow ball right at the back of his head. The poor tall lug took a tumble face first into the large snow pile, by the rock.

Dean worried, at first he may have knocked Sam into the rock, but when he sat up, relaxed for a moment until he caught the entire sight. Sam was sitting in a true cartoon image, a large pile of snow on top of his head. His gray, knitted hat flattened, his hair covered in snow, and his brown coat, looked more like a snow coat. Dean swore that Sam looked like he could be the walking snowman. It was a clear sign, Sam was fine.

At that, Dean lost it. He started laughing, bending forward, holding his side, to the point of tears laughter. It was something he very rarely had done.

“Dude, you look like a drowned cat,” He laughed, walking over to him.

He had expected Sam to be angry, to yell at him for being a douche, but what he got instead, was Sam staring up at him, his sunflower eyes sparkling with humor. How long had he seen the dimples in Sam’s face? It didn’t matter. The smile Sam was sprouting was so large, so wide, so happy; it was taking over his face. He forgot Sam glowed when he smiled. If he had his way, they would stay in that moment forever. Feeling of peace, happiness, and nothing to worry about was so cleansing.

“Kids, I am making you hot coco,” Mary called from the doorway. “Get whatever energy you have left out of your system, now.”

Dean paused, staring at his mother, the beautiful blonde curls, the indoor light making her look like an angel. Not the douchebag kind they always seem to be running into. The mythical, white fluffy wings, innocent, and gentle creatures that his brother believe in for so long that was the one she looked like. He expected a halo at any moment.

“Ten minutes,” Dean called. “We’re not done with the snowball fight!”

He pulled his black coat, tighter against his body, and jumped when wet cold went down his back. He turned around seeing Sam run for the tree line, and sighed. The oldest trick on the book. Oh he was going to pay. He grabbed a large ball, and rushed after him, towards the tree line.

All the while he could hear their mother and father laughing from their spot in the warm doorway. Yes, whatever the curse would be for them, boredom, sucking of a life force, death, it all could wait for the tomorrow. It was aiming to be the perfect day. 


End file.
